a transcription of the poem read on the home page of this issue
by Nate Marshall
wild hundreds
starts with a tire’s squeal
at getaway. broken whistle
of the coffee kettle
because work is waiting.
while.
next part is a clan, a wild
bunch on the outskirts of civil.
the name she calls you
when she loves you casually.
hun.
the end, a beginning.
what we say when we name
ourselves. a dropped
letter to save time.
its.
wildhundreds
wilhundreds
wilhundeds
whilehunits.
Poem copyright 2014 by Nate Marshall. All rights reserved.
See more poems from Nate Marshall on The Fight & The Fiddle: “Nate Marshall is a white supremacist from Colorado or Nate Marshall is a poet from the South Side of Chicago or i love you Nate Marshall,” “another Nate Marshall origin story,” and “another Nate Marshall origin story.”
Read more in this issue: Interview | Critical Essay | Writing Prompt